


but i wore his jacket for the longest time

by helloearthlings



Category: King Falls AM (Podcast)
Genre: Fluff, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 12:16:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14832104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helloearthlings/pseuds/helloearthlings
Summary: Jack was talking to one of his teammates, but then his eyes shifted just slightly and Sammy knew he had spotted him, could see the way his smile lit up Jack's face even though he didn’t wave.A warm feeling spread through Sammy’s chest just at the smile and he had to look down at his coffee to keep from blushing.He quickly fished his phone out of his pocket and made a big show of paying attention to it and not Jack, and when he looked up again, Jack was flipping him off.Well, Jack had to know what a big sacrifice this was for Sammy – having to watch a sport was never on Sammy’s list of things to do.





	but i wore his jacket for the longest time

**Author's Note:**

> I'm emo over Sammy Stevens always. Happy pride month aka Sammy Stevens appreciation month. I miss him every single day. The title, much like this fic, is deeply ironic in context.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Sammy was running late late to Jack’s rugby match.

Sammy was perpetually running late, but this one was particularly bad because he had left the house exactly on time, and then stopped for coffee anyway. It wasn’t like Jack would care – he’d notice if Sammy wasn’t in the stands at the game’s start, but he’d long ago accepted Sammy’s flaws, the horrible deep-seated insecurities along with the inability to follow the time on a watch – but Jack wouldn’t be offended if Sammy wasn’t on time.

Still, it was a nice gesture, since Sammy had missed Jack’s last three games. He’d been sick for a while, and then had to take a trip up the coast for work that Jack had decided to skip, and then been asked to guest host Vicky and Val’s last week.

Jack wasn’t bothered by it or anything, but Sammy was. Back when they were in college, Sammy had gone to all of Jack’s games.

He’d pretended it was begrudgingly, that Lily had dragged him along – in reality, it was mainly Sammy doing the dragging while Lily elbowed him in the gut throughout the game to remind him to keep his mouth closed.

It was a little embarrassing, but that had been the only time he’d allowed himself to stare at Jack back then.

Now he got to stare at Jack as much as he wanted – well, no, definitely not that much, since there was never enough staring at Jack but especially considering their cramped and closeted work environment, there was never enough staring at Jack – but he certainly got to stare at him _more_ nowadays and had been missing rugby because of it.

It would be nice to show up to watch and be on time, was the point. But Sammy’s caffeine-related hubris got the better of him and he was a full ten minutes late.

He jogged up to the stands, a little bit of his latte spilling onto his fingers. He winced, rubbing them on his jeans as he approached the makeshift bleachers in the park a few neighborhoods over from where he and Jack lived – the closest one with a rugby league.

Sammy thought rugby was a truly ridiculous sport, but Sammy thought all sports were ridiculous and Jack loved it, so Sammy had learned to accept its presence in his life.

There’s a bunch of players on the field but Sammy found Jack standing at one of the ends, could see his sandy hair sticky with sweat even at this distance.

Jack was talking to one of his teammates, but then his eyes shifted just slightly and he knew Jack had spotted him, could see the way his smile lit up his face even though he didn’t wave.

A warm feeling spread through Sammy’s chest just at the smile and he had to look down at his coffee to keep from blushing.

He quickly fished his phone out of his pocket and made a big show of paying attention to it and not Jack, and when he looked up again, Jack was flipping him off.

Well, Jack had to know what a big sacrifice this was for Sammy – having to watch a sport was never on Sammy’s list of things to do.

Watching Jack play a sport was different, though, because everything with Jack was different.

Sammy found an actual seat eventually, halfway up the stands and on the end. He didn’t socialize at Jack’s games, found the whole thing too nerve-wracking because what was he supposed to say if anyone asked? That he was here alone to watch his friend? He knew it wasn’t too unrealistic, that he could sell it if he tried, but Sammy lived in permanent fear that everyone around him could see straight through to the heart of him if he let them even be aware that he existed.

So Sammy sat alone and sipped his coffee, alternating between playing Candy Crush on his phone and staring at Jack. His team was winning – not that Sammy understood much of anything about rugby, no matter how many times Jack had tried to explain it.

Jack would tell that he was purposefully misunderstanding to be contrary, Sammy would tell him that the rules didn’t matter as long as Jack looked hot, then Jack would blush and Sammy would feel vindicated and he wouldn’t ever have to understand the rules of rugby.

Jack’s shirt was sticking to his skin in the heat – it was November, but it was also Los Angeles, to which seasons did not apply. He had done something with the ball a few times – was it still called a pass in rugby? At least Jack didn’t play football, Sammy would never have any hope of understanding football.

Sammy vaguely thought about maybe getting lunch after the game ended – maybe there was a café nearby. It was Saturday, it was afternoon, a good time for brunch. People in LA got brunch with their friends all the time, it was what people in LA _did_. No one would blink if he and Jack ate together, or think anything of it – right? This wasn’t like when they’d lived in rural Illinois for most of their college days, they could _do_ things together in public.

Dinner, Sammy knew, would be too much for him to handle, unless it was at McDonald’s or some equally unromantic place. But he and Jack could have brunch at a little café and no one would notice. It was a big city, no one they knew would be there, this neighborhood wasn’t their own, no one from the studio lived there as far as Sammy knew.

Yeah. Brunch. Brunch after this. To make up for missing the last few games. Jack would like that.

And Sammy could spend the next hour or so psyching himself up for it so that he wouldn’t explode with nerves when they left.

That was the moment when everyone in the audience made a collective _uh!_ sound accompanied by a wince, and Sammy quickly looked up from his phone.

It looked like there was a player on the ground – Sammy couldn’t quite see, there were too many of the guy’s teammates and competitors surrounding him – this was exactly why Sammy didn’t play rugby, exactly why –

One of the guys shifted, just for a second, and then Sammy noticed that hey, that wasn’t just any guy on the ground, that was Jack, lying flat on his back, face screwed up in pain.

Without realizing it, Sammy found himself standing on the field – had he pushed past everyone in the stands? – and was walking, jogging, maybe even running in Jack’s direction.

Oh, he was pushing the rugby guys out the way now, smart move, Stevens, really smart, do something obviously gay around the guys that would’ve beat him up as a kid, yeah, smart fucking move –

The nagging and overly paranoid voice in Sammy’s head turned off abruptly when Jack looked up at him, mouth set in a firm line, shaking slightly, eyes wide and glassy with pain.

“Hey, who are you?” Sammy heard a voice behind him but it was foggy and not quite there and Sammy couldn’t possibly address it.

“What the hell did you do?” Sammy heard himself say, though he felt a million miles away.

“Broke his collarbone, looks like,” a voice says from next to Jack – there’s a guy kneeling next to him that Sammy hadn’t noticed before. He looked older than the others, was dressed definitely – oh, a coach, he must be a coach or something. “Took a nasty hit.”

“I’m fine,” Jack said, his eyes on Sammy’s, earnest and heartfelt and entirely untruthful. Sammy knew when Jack was lying – well, not lying to Sammy, but lying to himself. He was definitely lying to himself right now, Sammy could tell from the tears drying in the corners of his eyes. Jack had taken a lot of hits during his long and boring part-time rugby career, and none of them had made him cry.

“You a friend of his?” the coach said, and when normally the question would’ve made Sammy tense up, it didn’t today, it didn’t at all, Sammy barely registered it.

“I’m his – friend, yeah,” Sammy said, the word _boyfriend, boyfriend, boyfriend_ playing on repeat in his head, itching to come out of his mouth. “Sammy.”

“Jack, do you want Sammy here to drive you to the hospital or should I call an ambulance for you?” The coach said, his voice slow and measured.

Jack blinked a couple of times. “I’m fine,” he repeated again. “I can walk it off.”

“You’re not walking off a broken collarbone,” Sammy said, annoyed, and he heard a couple of Jack’s teammates laugh behind him. “C’mon. I’m driving you.”

“I could walk to the hospital,” Jack said as if that was an ordinary thing that not-insane people said after they broke the collarbones and not just something Jack Wright would say to be a contrary piece of shit. “Would that be a good compromise?”

“No,” Sammy said, torn somewhere between annoyance and deep, unbridled affection that was threatening to spill out at any moment. He turned to the coach. “Can you help me get him to my car? I’m not parked nearby.”

“Alex, can you help Sammy get Jack to his car?” The coach called over his shoulder and one of Jack’s teammates stepped forward – blond, broad, athletic – and reached a hand toward Jack.

“This is embarrassing,” Jack said tetchily as Sammy took a hold of one of his sides without a second’s hesitation to how it would appear to an onlooker, and Alex held Jack’s shoulder firmly in place on the other side so he wouldn’t jostle it on their way. “Seriously, guys, I’m –”

“ _Fine_ , we heard,” Sammy interrupted. “People who are fine and people who just broke a bone are mutually exclusive categories, idiot.”

Jack laughed, then winced with a heavy groan, and Alex took a firmer hold of his shoulder.

They got him back to Sammy’s Hybrid with minimal difficulties, and only a couple breaks where Jack cried out in pain that throttled the loose hold Sammy had on sanity, before getting Jack into the passenger’s side seat where he could stop exerting himself for a second.

“You should be fine once you get there, I’m sure there’ll be a nurse or something who can help,” Alex said, his voice clearly concerned, but Jack waved him off with a shake of his head.

“Sammy’ll make sure someone does,” Jack mumbled, the exertion clearly a little too much for him even if he wouldn’t admit. His eyes were closed, and he was biting his lip too hard, probably to keep himself from crying out again.

“Thanks for the help,” Sammy said to Alex. “Jack would thank you too if he wasn’t too busy insisting that he could go back and play again because he’s just that _fine_.”

Sammy glared at Jack, who just snorted, because he didn’t appreciate Sammy putting up with him nearly enough.

“No problem,” Alex laughed as well, reaching out a hand to shake. “And you’re Jack’s…?”

Sammy realized he was asking a second too late, and barely thought about the implications of him asking whereas usually it would make him spin out.

In fact, all Sammy wanted to do right now was say _boyfriend, he’s my boyfriend, we’re boyfriends, boyfriend, boyfriend, boyfriend,_ and he thought that maybe if this was a stranger and not one of Jack’s friends, then maybe he would’ve.

That thought scared him, but not as much as Jack being in pain scared him.

“His roommate,” Sammy said instead, because it was kind of true, and even though it was a little odd for two men nearly thirty to be roommates, the economy was in shambles and all that, so he usually felt kind of safe saying it. “Sammy Stevens.”

“Cool, nice meeting you, Sammy,” Alex said, his demeanor not changing at all. Sammy wondered if he suspected and realized that hey, he didn’t care, he was numb to it at least for the next minute. “Have Jack text me or one of the guys once you’re out of the hospital, okay? I’m sure he’ll be fine but it would be good to hear from him.”

“Yeah, I’ll have him do that,” Sammy said. “Thanks again.”

Alex waved them off as he jogged back toward the park, and Sammy got into the driver’s seat of the car.

“I’m –” Jack started as Sammy turned the key in the ignition.

“Fine, I’m aware,” Sammy said, and carefully took Jack’s hand in his own, careful not to move him from his current position of leaning back with a pained expression. “Take you to the hospital anyway?”

“If it would make _you_ feel better,” Jack said, a small smile on his face as he laughed, and Sammy couldn’t help but laugh a little too even as his heart threatened to jump out of his chest with fear, but not the usual kind of fear.

* * *

 

“Stop pacing,” Jack told Sammy from where he was laying horizontal on a crisp white hospital bed. “Sit. Sit for just one second. It’s not gonna kill you.”

“Pacing relaxes me,” Sammy griped in Jack’s direction, taking another lap around the room, which took exactly ten seconds, and then immediately started another one.

“Pacing will not help the doctor get here faster,” Jack said, somehow the calm one here even though he was the one in the goddamn hospital bed. “It’s just a broken collarbone. I’ll have to wear a sling for a while. Worse things have happened.”

“You could need surgery,” Sammy said, a little jumpy. “I was reading online – it depends on how bad the break is. There can also be complications. Infection, bleeding, blood clots, damage to blood _vessels_ …”

“It doesn’t feel that bad,” Jack said with a weak laugh, halfway reaching his hand out.

Sammy crossed the room to take it without thinking too much – God, Sammy _always_ thought too much but right now he just wasn’t, it was weird but not unwelcome – and tried not to squeeze too tightly.

“This is just like the time you made me play rugby in college and I almost died,” Sammy said, and Jack immediately let go of Sammy’s hand to shove half-heartedly at him as best he could without moving, his face turning long-suffering.

“You did not _almost die_ , you got a concussion, there’s a fucking difference,” Jack groaned, sinking back onto his pillow. “And then I never made you play rugby again, so I don’t know what you’re complaining about.”

“It _felt_ like dying,” Sammy said, staunchly sticking by his position, though his twitching lips threatened to give him away. “We were in a hospital. I’m justified in the comparison.”

“Well, I don’t feel like I’m dying,” Jack said, a smile playing at his lips.

“Good for you,” Sammy said, sharp and sardonic, but then the idea of Jack actually dying entered his head for half a second and then suddenly he felt dizzy.

He leaned over press a quick kiss to Jack’s forehead, and Jack let out a small sound of surprise.

“You’re an idiot,” Sammy told him to stop his eyes from misting over. Jack beamed up at him like there was absolutely nothing wrong.

The doctor entered a moment later, looking down at his chart – that would’ve made Sammy so nervous yesterday but he didn’t care right now, he didn’t care, he didn’t care -  and said “Well, Mr. Wright, it’s a pretty easy break and nothing’s shifted too far out of place, so you won’t need surgery.”

Sammy let out a huffy breath and Jack grinned over at the doctor. “Great to hear, doc. What do I need to do, then?”

“We’ll get a sling for you to keep your arm and shoulder in place that you’ll need to wear for the next six weeks,” the doctor started, then continued, on and on and on and Sammy listened to every word, he really did, but he also couldn’t help but stare at Jack the entire time and, for once in his life, not overthink something.

“Do you live alone? Is there someone who can help lower your physical exertion and do menial tasks for the next six weeks?” The doctor asked Jack after finishing up a long spiel about all of the things that Jack could not do while wearing the sling, which Sammy already knew Jack would do half of before the day was over.

“He lives with me,” Sammy said before Jack could answer. “I can do whatever.”

“Good,” the doctor said with a sage nod and assessing eye that said he was trying to decide whether Sammy was just a roommate or Jack’s boyfriend. He’d had people assume he was Jack’s brother in the past, which was very funny seeing as how he and Jack looked absolutely nothing alike. “Then you should be in decent shape until your next appointment, if you could just set it up with Mary down at the front desk before you leave…”

The doctor said a few more things that Sammy was definitely listening to before they were free to go, and Sammy took Jack by the elbow that wasn’t in the sling down into the parking garage. He was relieved to see that Jack wasn’t quite as pale, and now that his arm was firmly in the sling, moving without much difficulty.

“See, no surgery,” Jack said with what Sammy knew he was thinking of as a winning smile. He buckled Jack’s car seat in response as Jack rolled his eyes. “I’m not an invalid, I can buckle myself in.”

“Let me do things for you,” Sammy said, purposefully grouchy if only because he was having trouble breathing properly. “You’re going to do something overly physical and aggravate it eventually, there’s no getting around that, so at least let me do things _today_.”

“You know me so well,” Jack said, a dopey grin on his face, and Sammy had to look away.

Jack complained about not being able to play rugby for most of the way back home, and Sammy complained about the time he almost died playing rugby so that Jack would get distracted and argue with him about it so he wouldn’t notice that Sammy was shaking out of his skin.

He couldn’t ignore it for long though, and when he parked the car outside their house, Sammy didn’t get up right away.

“You gonna undo my seatbelt, too?’ Jack said with a joking laugh that faded away when he noticed the look on Sammy’s face. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Sammy said, because there really wasn’t. Jack was going to be fine. That’s all that mattered. But the nagging feeling in his chest wasn’t going to stop. “I just…God, I just really wanted to be your boyfriend today.”

Jack smiled at him, soft but knowing. “You know, I think you still were my boyfriend today, unless we had a breakup in the middle of the night last night that I don’t know about.”

“You know what I mean,” Sammy said, staring down at his hands, panicked and not panicked all at the same time. A different kind of panic then he was used to, maybe.

“Yeah,” Jack said, reaching over to brush his free hand against Sammy’s. “You kissed me in the hospital room. I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Sorry,” Sammy said, not able to meet Jack’s eyes, but Jack quickly squeezed his hand.

“No, I liked it,” Jack said, his eyes soft around the edges when Sammy did finally manage to look over at them. “A lot. I liked it a lot. I wanted you to be my boyfriend, too.”

They were both quiet for a moment, because there was only one way the conversation could go after this, and Sammy knew it had to go there but also knew that if he started saying it out loud it would be real.

Jack, steady, always-there, never-disappointing, knew him better than he knew himself Jack, said it for him because Jack had always been the best and bravest thing about Sammy.

“Do you wanna tell people?” Jack said, his voice small and fearful but also more than a little hopeful, and that gave Sammy the courage to nod, slowly but meaningfully.

“Yeah,” Sammy said, his laugh high-pitched and nervous. “I do. I don’t know how to, but I do.”

“Me too,” Jack said, locking their fingers together. “I think we’d be okay. Our jobs – I mean, there’s not really a market for gay shock jocks, but – but the industry is different now. Which doesn’t mean it won’t be hard, but – but we could make it, I think. It would be a change, but – maybe a good one?”

He said it like a question, but Sammy could tell that it was a fervent, deep-seated hope that he shared in equal measure. It cut off his oxygen flow just a little.

“Maybe – maybe we could tell people this summer?” Sammy said, his mouth tasting like lead. “It’s closer to when our contracts are up so we could get out if need be. And it would give us both some time to…to get used to the idea.”

“Okay,” Jack said with a little nod. “We’ll tell people…in May, how about that? Our contracts are up in August, so they could keep us if they don’t care or we could escape them if they do.”

“Yeah,” Sammy said, swallowing his nerves. “May.”

“Try not to overthink yourself out of it, yeah?” Jack said, his laugh high and nervous. “I think – I think it’s time.”

“Seven years,” Sammy said, the words heavier than he remembered them being. “Fuck, seven years. Closer to eight in May. But – but yeah. May. Alright.”

They smiled at each other, more nervous than anything, but for the first time in his life, Sammy felt ready, like it was honestly something he could do, that it would all be worth it in the end because there was Jack, there would always be Jack.

“Hey,” Jack said, squeezing Sammy’s hand. “Maybe – maybe we could…get married?”

Sammy was pretty certain he actually stopped breathing for a second. “I – married?”

“Only if you want to,” Jack said quickly, his eyes widening and lips parting just slightly. “I – I should’ve waited. Bought a ring or something, but – but it just seemed like a good time to ask. I know it’s not very romantic, but –”

“No,” Sammy found himself saying, almost laughing out loud. “It’s perfect. It’s like when you tried to ask me out in college and I didn’t understand that that’s what you were doing and I thought you meant as a friend…”

Jack laughed, his eyes scrunching up, and God, Sammy loved him, would always love him, forever.

“That’s a yes, by the way,” Sammy said, smiling so widely his face hurt. “Definitely a yes.”

Jack leaned over to kiss him and Sammy didn’t care if any of their neighbors saw.

Sammy tried to help Jack get in the house, but Jack was no longer accepting help moving around because of course he wasn’t, these six weeks were going to be a real hassle because Jack hated being cooped up and being told what to do, but the fact that Jack was going to marry him and be his forever, that was enough to get Sammy through.

In sickness and health and all that sappy shit – Fuck, Sammy was so lucky.

“The celebratory post-engagement-and-coming-out sex is going to be a little less spectacular with my arm in a sling,” Jack said casually as the door shut behind them. “But I think we can make it work.”

He raised an eyebrow at Sammy suggestively, who kissed the look off his face.

“Later,” Sammy said. “You literally broke a bone less than two hours ago and haven’t eaten anything all day. Go sit down. Don’t move. Don’t exert yourself. Don’t do anything remotely physical. I’m getting lunch.”

“Whatever,” Jack said, leaning in to peck his cheek, but looking a little too pleased with himself all the same.

“I guess I’m doing all the menial labor for the next six weeks,” Sammy called over his shoulder as he got stuff for sandwiches out of the fridge. His cooking skills were nonexistent, but he could piece together a sandwich no problem. “Oh, woe is me.”

“I’m more than happy to –”

“Cease and desist immediately?” Sammy suggested jokingly. “I can handle taking the garbage out, idiot.”

“You sure?” Jack said, wandering into the kitchen with his laptop in his uninjured arm. “I know how you feel about menial labor.”

Sammy rolled his eyes in Jack’s direction. “At least you can’t abandon me for sports in the next six weeks.”

“Ugh,” Jack said, making a face. “No more sports. I’m gonna go insane without rugby. I need a new research project.”

“Of course you do,” Sammy said fondly as he finished up one of the sandwiches and set it next to Jack. “What’s it gonna be this time?”

He hooked an arm around Jack’s shoulder, leaning to press their cheeks together just because he could. Jack felt so warm and solid next to him, it was impossible not to love him.

“When I was doing my research about famous hauntings last summer, I found this town called King Falls,” Jack said. “They’ve got this war general – and a haunted library – oh, and this place called Perdition Wood that’s supposed to swallow people up. I think I might do some research on paranormal towns, especially places like this. Hotbeds of supernatural activity.”

Sammy laughed, fingers curling around Jack’s shirtsleeves, pressing a kiss to the back of Jack’s neck. All of Jack’s pet projects had something to do with the paranormal, and even though Sammy didn’t believe in any of that shit, he loved to hear Jack talk about it, he was just so passionate.

And now Sammy knew he was going to keep him forever, and that someday everyone would know, and that it wasn’t so scary anymore – because Jack would always be there to explain the rules of rugby, to do the necessary menial labor, to tell Sammy about weird as fuck paranormal hauntings.

Yeah. Yeah, everything was going to be alright now.


End file.
